This Time It Was Personal
by Akumi-san
Summary: The result of another frustrating defeat at the hands of his rival. Takes place immediately after Sonic's disappearance in Chapter 43: Accelerate.
Series: One Punch Man
Pairing: One-sided GenosSonic  
Warnings: NSFW, humiliation kink, spoilers for chapter 43  
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or profit from writing this fanfic

posted on my tumblr and then AO3. thanks for reading~

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For a long time he just stood there, breathing heavily through his nose, clenching and unclenching his shaking fists as he willed himself to calm down. To relax. To not think about the months wasted honing his shadow clone technique. To absolutely not think about his beautiful ponytail.

Lying on the ground.

Ripped cleanly off his head by that stupid fucker.

He whipped around viciously with a hiss and embedded a handful of shuriken into the wall above the couch with a slew of dull thuds. For a long moment Sonic just stared unmoving at the glints of metal shining in the dim lighting, hand still outstretched, knees still bent, breath still sloughing out raggedly as he fought to pull it together.

It was all so humiliating. Every time he faced off with Saitama. _Every time._ And the today's outcome was no different. Defeated in a single move by a better (and, oh humiliation of humiliation, a _faster_ ) version of his own specially designed technique. It was infuriating. So fucking infuriating to lose so absolutely every time like that.

But Sonic could handle that. It drove him to better himself as he sought new techniques to master and trained his body to be even faster. That asshole, that Saitama, was better and stronger than he was and showed that every time they faced off, but that only meant that he, the unstoppable Speed of Sound Sonic, would have to get better and stronger himself. One of these days, he would finally get his opportunity to sever that stupid bald head from those stupid caped shoulders and everything would be okay again.

But this.

This was a personal and intentional humiliation and it had him burning up inside.

His hair.

His lips twitched. When had he started grinning again?

He rose slowly and ran a shaky hand through his choppy locks, fingers trying to comb through longer hair and groping only air. This was also fine. Hair grew back, of course, and he loved his long hair so he would definitely be growing it out again. His hair being cut in battle wasn't what had his insides writhing.

No. Because his hair wasn't just cut in battle. Instead, this was an act to deliberately belittle and demean him. He felt his gut clench. That fucker (what was his name again? Saitama had said it before taking Sonic on. Something stupidly cliché for a cyborg...something having to do with genes or DNA or something. Genome...GeneCo...Geno...s. Genos! Right. Yeah, that. Probably.) had only been toying with him that entire time. Probably with the intent to kill Sonic, but only after he had properly shamed him. His face flushed at the thought.

That idiotic cyborg had made a purpose of getting behind him to both to demonstrate his ability to keep up with Sonic's namesake (he felt the burning feeling creep deeper into his gut) and to pull his ponytail off. No other tactical reason than to humiliate the ninja

A shudder ran through his body. In some detached part of his mind, he noted that the burning shame pooling in his gut was making him (even more embarrassingly) hard. Shit, this was so stupid of him, but fuck if he didn't keep imagining the scenario.

And his scarf, he realized belatedly, had been literally ripped off his shoulders. It was in Genos' way, so he tore it off. A couple centimeters in any direction and it could have been Sonic's clothes he was ripping through, probably tearing through the metal plating as easily as through the cloth.

What if he had? Just torn the shirt right off his back, exposed all those ugly scars he kept hidden away, for everyone to see. (his hips twitched forward as a breath juddered out of his tight smile, pants tightening around his stiffening dick) Everyone saw. Everyone was fucking watching the whole thing. Watching him get shown up at his own game. Watching Genos rip his hair out and just discard like it was some piece of shit he'd accidentally picked up. Fucking publicly humiliated.

 _Shit_. He was already stroking himself through over the cloth, feeling himself get harder at the thought. _God fucking damnit._

Genos _was_ pretty fast. Maybe as a machine, he would have kept going while Sonic slowly grew tired, his own human body his downfall. Would he rub it in Sonic's face? That Sonic had obviously been all talk with nothing to back it up?

He heard more than felt his back slam into the door as he continued to palm himself through his clothes. A damp patch was starting to form through the fabric. Those unfeeling cybernetic eyes had stared at Sonic like he was nothing more than dirt underneath his shoes. Sonic's grin widened around a shuddering breath, his eyes fluttering closed. Trembling fingers fumbled with the metal belt around his hips then slipped under the waistband of his pants to touch flesh. A little sigh escaped his lips as his long index finger circled the head, spreading precum around and slicking his hand with it before stroking firmly down the length of his erection.

Defeated and clothes torn and prostrate on the ground in front of the hero. Fuck, that asshole had already seen him with no clothes, hadn't he? Sonic felt his cheeks flush hotter, brushed his thumb over the head of his dick again, felt his legs start to shake. Naked with all his stupid scars – proof that he was worthless, a failure – on full display. Had that been disdain he had seen flashing across the cyborgs face? Judgement? His legs gave out with the next couple strokes and he slid to the floor with a breathless grunt.

Then Genos would shove his face into the ground, (maybe tell him to eat dirt, his mind only too happily supplied) voice entirely devoid of inflection or emotion. Sonic let himself fall forward, shoulder stopping his face from slamming into the linoleum, and worked his other hand into the back of his pants. The thought that he should have at least slicked his fingers up only briefly crossed his mind at the first intrusion, but fuck if he cared. He shoved another finger in as far as it would go and thrust them back in again viciously with a hiss, heedless of his nails scratching through the fabric of his gloves (oops. Probably should have removed those). What would that cybernetic metal feel like? Would it be cold, harsh to the touch, chilling him from the inside out, the jointed edges cutting into him at every turn? Or were they warm, emulating human flesh, silicone pads and soft metal joints just a delicious texture brushing against him. He moaned out loud, breath coming out in a hot fog on the linoleum, his dick impossibly hard and twitching in his hand, his own long fingers fucking in and out of his ass in time with the stroking on his cock.

And he'd already called Sonic a pervert. Had no qualms with belittling him with his words. Would Genos call him a slut, too? He _was_ a slut. Hands on his dick and in his ass, shorn hair a fucking mess, face ten shades of red, and..was that drool dribbling down his chin? Wanting that asshole hero to call him worthless, a pervert, a fucking whore. Wanting those strange, fascinating eyes to look at him like he was trash. Fucking needing those stupid metal fingers inside him, tearing him apart.

Each fucking breath was coming out in a loud moan now (thank every god he knew of that he already scared off all his neighbors). Oh god, would Genos shove his fingers down Sonic's throat, too, just to shut his whore mouth up? Tell Sonic he hated hearing his voice, still fucking him with his cold metal fingers, contempt painted all over his face at the writhing, unworthy, fucking _drooling_ creature beneath him.

That was it. He shoved a third finger in, ignoring the burn, imaging the metal fingers in his mouth and disdainful, disinterested face, fucked himself once, maybe twice more and came with a cry from his widely grinning lips, shuddering and collapsing into a heap on the floor right in front of his front door.

 _Fuuuuuuck._

Whatever. So maybe he'll have additional objectives next time he comes up with a fantastic new way to end Saitama's life.


End file.
